


Angels Are Watching Over You

by miss_grey



Category: Supernatural
Genre: All the good things about Dean Winchester, Alternate Universe - Canon, Basically it's one giant love letter to dean winchester, Dean love, Falling In Love, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Other, Tissues may be required
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-22
Updated: 2014-07-14
Packaged: 2018-01-20 08:29:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 65
Words: 14,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1503716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miss_grey/pseuds/miss_grey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU Where Castiel was always Dean’s guardian angel, and he’s always been there, watching…forbidden from making contact.  Here are a collection of Castiel’s thoughts on his charge, from the very beginning until that fateful journey into Hell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. From the Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> A collection of Castiel's thoughts--one per episode until Hell.

 

 

I was there the moment that you first drew breath—you came into the world with a wail, arms outstretched, fighting.  I stood in the room, out of sight, away from the bustle, and watched as your mother took you into her arms and held you close.  She loved you—not just then, but before—from the moment she knew you existed.  She kissed your mottled red forehead while you cried, and tears also shone in her eyes.

I watched your tiny fist clench the air.  “Dean Winchester,” your mother murmured.  It was the first time I heard your name, and I held it close, but even then I did not know what it would mean.  Those two words.

I was given charge of your soul, and it was a blessed, holy duty, and I loved you as I loved all human souls, but I did not know.  I didn’t know _how_ yet. But I felt joy to behold you—your soul shone so bright.

 

 

 

I watched you grow and change, so full of life.  I learned your cries and your smiles.  I learned to speak Dean Winchester even as you did.  You were such a happy child, held close by everyone around you who loved you.

I was content to watch you, unseen, unknown, just as my orders demanded.  There was never a temptation to break my peace, but still, I felt a stirring, deep inside myself, when I watched your mother bend over you and whisper “Angels are watching over you.”


	2. The Night Everything Changed

 

     On the night when everything changed for you, they forbade me from interfering, from altering the course of your destiny.  I was there when the screams roused you from your sleep, and I could still feel the lingering taint of the abomination that had drawn so near. My superiors took me aside and told me to bear it—the events of that night were necessary, they said.

     And so I watched as your happy home was demolished by a demon, and I watched, like a good soldier, as events unfolded.  Mary Winchester had been a good woman, and I’d listened to her sing to you on many a night—still, I stood there, unseen, and watched her die.

     But then a curious thing happened.  Your father placed your brother in your arms and told you to take him outside.  I could sense the change in you, then.  I knew that moment would ripple through your future and change the course of your life. 

     I was forbidden from interfering.  Even so, I could not bring myself to simply watch.  I could sense your fear and sadness, and it wrenched at something inside of me, something I had not felt before. 

     As you carried your brother to safety, I carried you.  I strode one step behind you, wings unfurled to keep the fire at bay as you made your way through the house and out the front door.  You would never know, but I held the both of you close as your home burned, as your lives were wrecked. 

     It wasn’t enough, but still, it was too much.  It was the first time I disobeyed for the sake of Dean Winchester.  For that, they took me from you.  For a very long time.


	3. Reunion

 

     It was time out of time for me—an eternity, a fraction of an instant—but when they finally allowed me to return to my duties—to you—more than twenty of your years had passed, and you were no longer a child.  You were a man. 

     It wasn’t punishment, it was a correction; much needed re-education because I had lost my way when it came to you.  I’d disobeyed.  Even recognizing the necessity of their actions and the effort they put into setting me back on the path of righteousness, I ached when I realized how much of your life I had already missed.

     I missed those formative years after the tragedy—I was not there to comfort you.  I missed the years of your youth; the impetuosity of a teenage boy, the passion of one whose soul always shone so bright.  I missed the early years of your adulthood, and all the trials that brought you to that point.  Your loves and your losses. 

     They never told me what became of you—they left it to me to find out.  It sent a curious shiver through my being when I learned that you’d become a hunter.  That first time in more than twenty years when I beheld you, I saw the shadow on your soul, cast there by a life of hardship and a knowledge of darkness.  And yet, through it all, you were so pure, so bright and full of _life._

     You were sleeping alone in a pay-by-the-hour motel room, just outside of Atlanta when I found you.  You were sprawled over top of the covers, still fully dressed, with your hand wrapped around a pearl-handled pistol under your pillow.  You were twenty six, a grown man, but still young and beautiful.  I bent near, longing to touch you, just for the pleasure of knowing that we were truly reunited.  I stretched close, and you shifted, exhaled.

     You were alone.  If I could have frowned, I would have, if I’d known what that feeling was deep inside of me.  I was angry, upset for you.  Your father and your brother, they both left you.  I did too, but what you didn’t know, what you’d never know, is that they had to tear me from you.  Rip me from your side. But then, you never even knew I was there.

     I sat next to you while you slept, and wondered what could have happened in my absence to bring you to this place.  Where was your family?  Why was your soul already tarnished?  Dean, I promised that I would be there, that I would keep you safe.

     Later, after you woke and packed all your life’s belongings in an army-issue duffle bag, I followed you, close on your heels, until I saw the big black car that I remembered from before.  It was yours now, I knew that from the look of love in your eyes and the gentle way that you caressed the metal before popping open the door.  You sat so confidently behind the wheel that anyone else might not have been able to tell that you were sad, lost.  You twisted the stereo on and a band crooning about a stairway to heaven began to play.

     You rested for a moment, weary, and murmured, “I need to find Sammy,” then sighed, before you pressed the gas.

     I rode shotgun all the way to Stanford.


	4. Pilot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's face it--this whole story is basically one big love letter to Dean Winchester.

     I had to get to know you all over again.  I learned you in your music, and the songs you chose to hum along to.  I learned you in the way you drove your car, and cared for everything else you owned.  I learned you in everything you said, and everything you didn’t.

     You were so very complex, but already I was learning to pick you apart—I could see inside of you.  I knew who you were, who you were always going to be, even if I’d missed how you’d gotten there.

     I was there when you found your brother, and I was surprised at him, too.  I saw the way you looked at him, when you thought he couldn’t see you.  I could _feel_ the love you bore for your brother, and it made me happy that you could feel so deeply, so purely.

     I had other duties still, and so I could not perch on your shoulder and shadow you like I sometimes wished, but I came back to you. 

     I was there, hovering in the motel door when you gave yourself over with a smile to the police officers in order to allow Sam to escape.  It was so very interesting to me how you bore the insult of being locked up, handcuffed, mocked and degraded by a man who didn’t, couldn’t know you.  And still you smiled and kept your peace to protect your family.  I watched, curious, to see what you would do when the man left you behind, a prisoner.  Still, you found a way out because you are intelligent, resourceful, and determined when you have a mission.  I watched you pick the lock on your handcuffs, amused.  These men thought a set of flimsy metal rings and a lock could hold you.

     When Sam reminded you that he had somewhere he needed to be that was not beside you, you let him go with a smile, and well wishes, even though it hurt you. 

     But you didn’t leave, couldn’t bring yourself to do it.  And despite everything, Dean, you were there to pull your brother from the inferno again.  You were there for him just when he needed you.


	5. Wendigo

 

 

Dean Winchester, you are brave and brash and selfless.  I watched you grab up that flare gun and charge into the darkness like you were invincible.  But you’re not, Dean.  You’re just a man.  But you threw your life on the line for the others, innocent victims that you swore to protect, for no reason except that’s the kind of man you are. 

     You didn’t know what you were up against, not really—it was a foe you’d never faced before.  But you leapt into the fight with reckless abandon, afraid despite your cocky outward composure.

 

     After everything, when the hunt was over, I stood back and watched as the girl you helped to save leaned close and laid a kiss on your cheek.  It looked like a clichéd thanks, overlaid with flirtation and encouraged by your handsome smile.  But I knew what it really was, Dean, because I was paying close attention to you.  You accept physical affection as thanks, because you don’t know how to ask for, or accept anything more.  You don’t know how to deal with people expressing their genuine thanks and admiration for you.  It makes you uncomfortable because you do not believe it.  Even though it’s true.

     Oh, Dean….


	6. Dead in the Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel learns all the good things about Dean Winchester that Dean refuses to believe in.

 

 

 

     You ran with single-minded intent, over the bank and the dock that jutted into the lake.  Your body arched beautifully for the dive into the water’s depths.  You did not pause, you did not think, you leapt fully-clothed into the water with an enraged, murderous spirit to save the life of a little boy.

     I paced the edge of that dock, almost…anxious while both you and your brother frantically searched the dark depths of the lake.  With each second that passed I grew more restless, with the urge to reach in and scoop you to the surface, but I remembered my brothers’ words “Do not interfere with Dean Winchester.  Watch, brother, but do not interfere.”  I remembered very well what had happened the last time, and so I watched, and waited.

     It was a blessed moment when you broke the surface of the lake, gasping for air and dragging Lucas up with you.

     I watched, concerned, as you paddled through the water and hauled the boy to the muddy banks, focused despite the mother’s screaming less than a foot away.  You shoved her to the side, bent over the child, and breathed life back into his lungs.

     You are a hero, Dean Winchester.


	7. Phantom Traveler

 

 

 

 

_“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus_

_Omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursion_

_Infernalis adversarii, omnis legio,_

_Omnis congregation et secta diabolica….”_

 

  The words Sam Winchester chanted were heavy with power—they suffused my whole being, lit me up, and washed through me. But I was filled with a righteous fire that strengthened me just as that same fire burned through the demon and cast it back into the pits of Hell from a height of 30,000 feet.

     My brothers, they bade me to watch, and to wait, and Father help me, what would I have done if that plane had come crashing down, bearing the innocent souls of hundreds, not just my charge.  Would I have waited, and ushered them to the doors of Heaven, or would I have defied orders once again and held the plane aloft?

     Dean and Sam Winchester, you court Death like ardent lovers, and yet… you are learning.


	8. Bloody Mary

 

 

 

     You arrived just in the nick of time—a whirlwind of determination and strength and pure love—you were the antithesis of the vengeful, murderous spirit that walked inside the mirrors.  You burst into the room, crowbar smashing into the mirror to shatter it into thousands of pieces.  It wasn’t enough, it wasn’t what saved your brother, but I was struck by the passion behind the action.

     And later…. Dean.  You never notice, you might never even understand these things about yourself.  But you are a natural when it comes to comforting others, and to reassuring them that tragedies are not always their fault.  You told as much to the girl and Sam both, and the words came so easily to you because you believe them whole-heartedly.  You hate to see others carry the weight of the world on their shoulders.  You understand that sometimes bad things just happen.  But these people you know—the ones you love, and the ones you happen to meet—you know they are not to blame for the darkness in the world.

     I only wish you believed the same thing for yourself.


	9. Skin

 

 

     You were bound, but I knew that you were safe for the moment, and so I left you there, hidden in the bowels of the city while I pursued your captor.  I stalked him, always just a step behind, watching his every move and praying for the patience required so as not to strike him down.

     He was an imposter.  He was an abomination, a blasphemy that wore your face as his own and did terrible things.  He played that he knew you, but _he knew nothing about you._ Not who you really are, not what you are capable of.

     As I looked upon him, I was filled with a righteous fury, a rage that suffused my entire being, and I wanted to smite him, to _lay him to waste._   How dare he?!

     When the police came, they killed the interloper, but it wasn’t enough.  It wasn’t enough.  That creature would stay in my thoughts for a long time, would haunt me.  The look of murderous glee on its face, your face, filled me with foreboding.


	10. Hook Man

 

 

     It still amazes me how foolish some humans can be—how they presume to know and understand God’s will.  Even for one such as myself, it is unfathomable.  Only God can judge what is right and what is wrong, and even I, as an angel, must bow to His will and obey His orders.

     I do not think that the child knew what she was doing when she dealt out deadly punishments for perceived sins, but even the nature of the sins must be questioned. 

     Humans read ancient words translated across countless tongues, and wreak violence and destruction according to their interpretations.  And they call it God’s will. 

     I call it blasphemy.

     At least you, Dean…you and Sam, and even your misguided father… even though you judge harshly and strike down your enemies without mercy, even you do not presume to call it God’s will.


	11. Bugs

 

 

     I think it is interesting that after everything you’ve seen, everything you do, simple things still have the power to bring you pleasure. 

     I do not always watch you Dean; I have other duties that I must attend to as well, though I must admit that I have grown biased.  Others, my superiors, think it is a problem, but I do not see it in that way.  It is a good thing to feel passion for one’s mission, isn’t it?

     The case you worked—it was a human contrivance, that curse, though it was powerful enough to bend nature to the will of the caster.  Many things interest me, though here, now, I do not care so much for the curse and its repercussions as I do the events that unfolded to make it so.

     Angels are not bound by the human laws of time and space, Dean, so it was easy for me to look back.  I found myself, feet planted firmly on a field that had once grown green and healthy, but was now covered in blood and the bodies of fallen warriors, women, and children.  The sight filled me with such utter sadness that I did not care anymore for the curse.  Surely the curse was the result of righteous vengeance, a thing that I find myself the agent of quite often.

     And so I made no move to assist you on the case, Dean, but I was intrigued nevertheless, by you, as always.

     It was a shower of all things, a spray of falling water, that brought to you such joy.  I watched, moved, by the way that you washed away the dirt from the day from your body, but also your fears and anger.  It was baptismal, and it reminded me of the very first, those long before your time, when the righteous, when the penitent, truly believed that they could be saved.


	12. Home

 

 

 

     Bless Sam Winchester, but he could never quite understand what he was asking, when he asked you to return to your childhood home.  It had been a warm, safe place for you, filled with love and light, until suddenly it wasn’t.  It was the site of your greatest trauma, the place where the world quit spinning and came crashing down around you.  It was where your childhood, your innocence was ripped away from you.  Even you wouldn’t understand until years later just what happened in that house, but you tried not to think on it too long, even though the tragedy of your mother’s death lay under almost every decision you’d made since you were a child. 

     The spectre of your mother, smiling and loving, took every single step with you on a hunt, and you kept her picture hidden in your duffle.  No one else knew that sometimes, on nights when your father had left you alone, and Sam was sleeping, you would pull the picture out and look at it as you fell asleep, remembering the way she used to kiss you on the forehead and whisper “Angels are watching over you.”

     I could sense your deep, overpowering anguish at learning that your mother’s soul had stayed in that house, and the mixed feelings that swamped you when you realized that your mother had stayed willingly.  She acted in her afterlife as she had in life: as a guardian, protecting whoever lived in the house against the evil that remained, an evil that she invited in, an evil that was tied up in the machinations of your destiny.  But even though this knowledge tore at you, you could not have been prouder of her, for being brave, for doing what she had taught you to do.  But in doing so, in saving the residents of the home, and stepping in to save your brother, as she had done so long ago, your mother sacrificed herself.  Again.

     And that night, there was no comfort for you.


	13. Asylum

 

 

 

     You have an enviable focus.  The job that you have willingly taken on, even assigned yourself, always comes first with you, and that is something that I can identify with… appreciate.  Sam Winchester is the son that questions, that rebels, that wants to know _everything._   But not you, Dean.  When your father gives you orders, even something as innocuous as coordinates, you follow them without question.  You have complete faith in your father.  Something else I can commiserate with. 

     It was difficult for me to watch as you waded into the festering spiritual wound that was the Roosevelt Asylum.  However, I did watch, and I followed, one step behind you as you navigated the crumbling, maze-like halls.  You never feared losing your own mind—that was something I found curious about you.  You are always so sure of yourself, Dean. 

     Sam Winchester was more susceptible to the twisted influence of the asylum, a condition that did not surprise me in the least.  Not knowing what I know of Sam and his…association…with evil.  It did not surprise me when he took up arms against you—it is a tale as old as time—brother against brother—but still, it caused me to… _feel_ … when he pulled the trigger on the shotgun.  I knew the shot would not kill you.  It would hurt, but pain is useful, necessary.  I would not have spared you that pain, because it was something that I was told was needed for you to become the man you were destined to be.

     Still, it proved…difficult…for me to listen to Sam degrade you, and to see the flicker of hurt and betrayal in your eyes as you lay on the floor of the asylum and just endured the barrage.  It was difficult for you to hit your brother, but it was worse to lie there on the floor believing that he, the man who you helped to raise, wanted your blood on his hands.  Sam Winchester was so preoccupied with his anger over your obedience to your father that he never understood that he was the center of your world, even though I, an angel, could see it reflected in your eyes whenever you looked at him, and in every single move you made.

     …after everything, all of the pain of the hunt, and the tireless searching you and Sam had pursued for the sake of your father…the man finally called.  Not to inquire about your well-being, but to give you another order.  And you took it without protest, a good soldier.

     By this point, John Winchester was already a legend among the hunting community, and of course even the angels knew his name.  Still… when I saw your face go blank of emotion, I… _felt_ … and the call troubled me.


	14. Scarecrow

 

 

     Your brother left you.  Again. 

     It was perhaps one of the most difficult things you’ve ever done… letting him go again.  He would never understand what it meant to you when he turned his back and walked away.  You both said things that maybe you did not mean to.  It was not anger or hatred that pushed you two apart on that lonely highway.  It was concern and a stubbornness born of your circumstances, but you both wounded one another with your push-pull words and unwillingness to compromise.

     I watched you, Dean.  Of course I did.  Like always.  But I also watched your brother.  For you.  And for Sam himself.  Heaven knew him as an abomination, a threat to the world and everyone in it.  But I also knew him as the little boy that you’d carried out of a burning house, a child that you helped to raise, the person you held closest to your heart.  And though I knew there must be goodness in him for you to love him so dearly, I also knew that he was more susceptible to the darkness in the world.  And so I followed him, and I am glad that I did so.  Because he met a devil out on that highway, and he did not even recognize it.

     I listened as he spoke with the demon, but I kept myself hidden so that the creature from Hell would not detect me.  It tried my patience—I wanted nothing more than to smite the creature, burn it out of existence—but I held my peace and watched, listened, waited.  Sam Winchester discussed life philosophies with a demon.  I expected the creature to sway him—I expected Heaven to be proven right in that moment.

     But then… he tried to call you and you did not pick up.  And I watched him turn from a proud, headstrong man into a determined, worried younger brother.  I watched him become truly dangerous.  In service of you.

     I decided then, as he rushed back to your side in time to aid you, that perhaps the Host of Heaven had misjudged him.  I decided to postpone judgment.  For him.  And for you.


	15. Faith

 

 

     Dean Winchester, you are a man of little faith, but still you prayed for her, even though you’d never pray to save yourself.  I watched, intrigued, as you drove away.  Then I turned toward Layla.

     I laid my hand upon her head, and I healed her.


	16. Route 666

 

 

     It was strange to hear you speak of this woman, Cassie… and to watch you be with her. 

     You are a man of varied, strong emotions, Dean, and yet you still try to hide them.  But you could not with this woman, who you once loved.  Who you once confessed your truths to.  The woman who did not believe you, could never quite accept you.

     I was indifferent to her.  I could see that she had a bright soul—she’d dedicated her life toward improving the lives of others, and I could respect that.  However, I could not ignore the pain I sensed in you when you gazed upon her, and for that, I could feel nothing else towards her.

     That was just another piece of evidence that proved that I was growing too close to you, that I was developing a problematic attachment.

     What was worse, though, much worse, is that I marveled at the coincidence of the similarities of our names.  Mine and this woman’s.  Cassie.  I listened to you say her name—enunciate every letter, and I could not help but wonder what it might sound like if you ever said mine. 


	17. Nightmare

 

 

     This is what we were afraid of; another child with demon blood, giving in to the darkness inside of him.  Max Miller may have once been an innocent, but he will have to answer for the blood on his hands.

     I watched him level the gun at you, Dean.  I prowled the edges of the room, anxious, itching to remove the threat, because you would not remove yourself from harm’s way.  I could see various possible outcomes—I knew that in one of them, you died in the service of the cowardly woman who used you as a shield.  In another, you yourself became a killer.  I watched, and I waited, to see which scenario would play out.

     It was the most unlikely of them; Sam managed to talk the boy down from killing you and from killing his step-mother.  He aimed the gun at his own self and pulled the trigger and I watched his soul flee his body, dispassionately.  Instead, I turned my attention back to Sam, whose own connection with the demon blood had grown over the past months.

     As I watched the blood spill from Max Miller, I feared for your brother’s soul.  I knew what he was capable of, what he had the potential to become.  Still, though, when he seemed on the verge of collapse, you held him up, held him together, and promised that he would not turn out that way.  Not so long as you were around.

     I marveled at you then, and your disregard for powers greater than yourself.  Such things as fate and destiny mean nothing to you, Dean Winchester.  You do not yet understand that you are just a man, and that your will has limits.  Still, even knowing this, I couldn’t help but feel… relief at your pronouncement.  And even knowing what I did, I felt a…hope that maybe you were right, maybe you could keep your brother safe.  Against all odds.


	18. The Benders

 

 

     It was one of the hardest lessons you’ve ever had to learn, Dean.  You spend your life hunting creatures in the darkness, determined to rid the world of evil.  But not all monsters are demons or shifters or ghouls.  Some of them live in your cities, your towns, your homes.  Sometimes, the monsters are you.  Humans.

     And there is nothing you can do about it.


	19. Shadow

 

 

     You did not know what you were facing when you walked into that warehouse; you did not know that an agent of Hell awaited you there.  Dean, you and your brother both are strong and brave, but this, Hell, it is beyond you.  The most you could hope to do is hold it at bay long enough to escape—there is no destroying it, there is no erasing it.  If it were as easy as that, Heaven might have done so long ago.

     I was filled with an…anxiousness as you and your brother fought the demon who called herself Meg, though even then you did not recognize her for what she was.  When you cast her from the building and she fell, you thought that was the end of it, but I knew it was not so easy. 

     The _feeling_ of wrongness stayed with me as you fled the warehouse, and so I followed you back to your motel. 

     I, too, stood in the doorway of your room, confused and maybe even…upset… at the sudden appearance of John Winchester, after all this time.  I’d heard your calls for him like prayers, and I knew that they’d all gone unanswered while this man pursued a case bigger than all of you. It confused me because while I knew what John Winchester hunted, and what drove him to do so, I could not help but feel… _something…_ on your behalf.  I do not know what it was, but maybe it was a sort of sympathy, or camaraderie.  Or maybe it was just protectiveness.  I could not be sure.

     Still, the arrival of John Winchester was not enough to keep you safe.  When the Daevas attacked, my Grace flared inside of me, and manifested as a burning, righteous anger.  My wings unfurled, and the Daevas swirled darkly, slicing at your vulnerable human bodies.  I raised my sword, ready to smite them down, when the thunderous voice of Heaven rang in my being, saying “Do not interfere, Castiel.  Or we will remove you.  Again.”  I shuddered, remembering the last time such a thing had happened, and the terrible things that had befallen you in my absence.  So I lowered my sword, tucked my wings in close once more, and felt the Daevas rejoice.

     I prowled the edge of the room, all of my righteous fury chained, useless, impotent, as I watched the demons rip into you and your family.  What good was I as a warrior of Heaven if I allowed this filth to continue to walk the earth, to prevail here and now?  My very being shook with the force of holding myself in check; I could have cleared the room of darkness with a single burst of Grace, but I did not.  I watched, angry, frustrated, as scar after scar was laid into your flesh.

     And in the end, it was not I that saved you, but your brother.  Again.

     I allowed myself to feel relief when you fled the run-down motel, injured but alive.  And I felt…gratefulness toward Sam Winchester, for doing what I would not.


	20. Hell House

 

 

     Faith and belief are strange things.  It intrigues me—this idea that something can be brought into existence through sheer belief, the power of the human mind to imagine and thus create.  As belief can bring things into existence, so too then can disbelief, or forgetting, take them out of existence. 

     In my time on earth, I have seen creatures and gods brought forth from the minds of men, huddled around fires to chase away the cold.  I have seen others fade into nothingness when their worshippers and creators forsake them.

     God, my Father, brought me into existence with His Word and His Will.  I wonder, sometimes, if perhaps I only continue to exist because He believes in me.  Would I simply fade away if my Father ceased to believe in me?  Or would the belief of humans keep me in existence?  Do any of them even know the name Castiel?

     Sometimes I sit and think about what it might be like if you knew I was here, if you knew my name, and spoke to me.  It is probably close to blasphemy, dangerous vanity and pride.  But sometimes, when I watch you struggle and laugh and fight through your days, I wonder what it might be like if _you_ believed in me.


	21. Something Wicked

 

 

 

     You carry the whole world on your shoulders.  I’ve known since the fateful day of the fire that Sam Winchester was the center of your world, and I had no doubt that there was very little you were willing to do in order to protect him. 

     I listen, silent, invisible, as you tell Sam the story of the shtriga, of the guilt you have been carrying on your shoulders since childhood.  I listen, confused, and upset.  That event happened while I was…away.  But listening to you recount your father’s anger stirs something deep inside of me, something that I could not name if I wanted to.  How did John Winchester expect a child to protect anyone from a monster such as this?  Why did he expect it of you?  I realize, listening to you, that there was so much I missed while I was gone, so much that helped to shape you into the world-weary soldier that you are today. 

     You never were a child, were you?  Not since the day you carried your baby brother from that burning house.  I feel…regret, perhaps, for those lost years, for that loss of innocence.

     You are a good man, Dean Winchester, a good soldier.  But you are not infallible.  You share the weaknesses of all men in that regard.  You may fight against the darkness in the world with your every breath, but sometimes, no matter how hard you fight, you will fail. 

     Still, this fight is one that you refuse to let go of. You have carried this particular weight for a very long time.  You stood in the doorway with your gun, almost like an avenging angel yourself, and you blew the shtriga away.  It should have been catharsis for you to kill the creature, finally.  But the dead body only served as proof of your past failure.

     Dean….


	22. Provenance

 

 

     Happiness is an emotion that I do not see often enough in you, Dean.  I see it now, and it is a beautiful thing: it lights up your soul so that it shines even brighter than the miniature sun it already is.  And I am drawn to it, helpless, as I have been since the day you came into the world.

     I find it interesting that this happiness of yours is a reflection of Sam’s own happiness.  Sam Winchester lights your soul.  And so I turn my attention to his.


	23. Dead Man's Blood

 

 

     “I wouldn’t have given you the damn thing if I thought you were gonna ruin it.”

     The flicker of hurt flashed instantly across your face, like you’d been slapped, before it was quickly shuttered behind impassivity.  I bristled at the insult, the casual slight against you, thrown out by your own father, your hero.  It was meant to hurt you and put you in line—this was your punishment for failing to live up to his impossible expectations, again.

     I noticed the barely-there tightening of your jaw as you accepted the criticism as truth and took it into yourself.  I could almost hear you berating yourself for another supposed failure, and I felt anger on your behalf. 

     John Winchester was famous in the hunting world, and of course all in Heaven knew of him because of your family’s destiny.  As I looked upon him, I saw a fierce warrior, a strong man, but a jaded human who took out his frustrations on his children. 

     Before…I might not have noticed such words, or given any care for the way that your father treated you or made you feel, but I have been watching you for a long time, Dean, and I know that you are undeserving of such harshness.

     It is one thing to deal with pain dished out by monsters and enemies, and the vagaries of life, but to have it thrown at you by the man who was supposed to care for you, protect you? 

     I know that you bear a love for your vehicle that is second only to that of your father and brother; the Impala is as much a part of your family as they are, and it is the only real home that you have known since you were four years old.  For John Winchester so say such a thing to you implied that you did not know how to care for the things that you loved, that your family could not be entrusted into your incapable hands.  He charged you with neglect.  I felt righteous anger on your behalf, and had to remain behind as you drove away so that my upset would not become palpable. 

 

 

 

     Your father has always been your hero, the man who you have put upon a pedestal and modeled yourself after.  You obey him without question in all things, and you defer to his thoughts, his opinions.  You have allowed him to degrade you with words, to insinuate that you do not live up to his expectations; you have endured much from this man, and you would let him get away with it.  You would let him get away with much.  But you would never allow him to turn such attention to your brother.

     And so, later, as those two strong-willed men battled with each other, dueling with their wills and their words, constantly challenging, I watched as you put yourself firmly between the two of them—not only to keep the peace, but to protect your brother.  You did it with such determined familiarity that even though your father turned outraged, disapproving eyes upon you, you did not back down.  Because you allowed your father much, but you did not allow him to push Sam around.

     I think that as much as John Winchester was outraged and offended, he was also proud of you for that.  For learning the number one lesson that he had spent your whole life drilling into you: Protect Sammy.


	24. Salvation

 

 

     Even when your world is crashing down around you, you try to save as many as you can.  I could sense the tumult in your soul—the swirl of anxiety and anger, fear and pain, and a creeping doubt concerning your own value, your own abilities. 

     I watched the events of that night unfold, knowing that although you struggled and fought against evil and the complex machinations of the universe, you were following the path that fate had laid out for you, perfectly.


	25. Devil's Trap

 

 

     In all the years that I have stood sentinel upon the earth, I have not felt so torn, so…full of doubt as I have since I was given the order to watch over you, Dean.  There were many times when I found myself questioning the orders of my superiors, even straining against them to try to help you.  Other times, I followed those orders, even when they chafed, because I knew that they were righteous, and that in the end, no matter what, you would fulfill your destiny.  I had convinced myself that as your guardian, I had the duty to watch over you and the choice of whether or not to interfere…even if that choice might have dire consequences for me.  What I did not consider, not really, was that something might happen that I did not anticipate, that I could not stop, that there was no way to avoid.

     I was caught utterly off guard, helpless, when the truck slammed into the Impala, smashing and wrenching the metal like it was nothing.  I did not even have time to cry out, to even contemplate disobedience, before you were a bloody mess, a footstep away from death, trapped by the very evil you’d dedicated your life to pursuing.  It had finally gotten to you.

     My world stuttered.


	26. In My Time of Dying

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am very pleased with this chapter, and myself at the moment :)

 

 

 

     Through the cold, antiseptic hallways and underneath the pale lights of the ward, I walked with you in the in-between.  Even here, where the veil was thinnest, you could not see me, could not sense me.  Death walked with you as well, on your other side, but you did not recognize her.

     Your soul navigated the twisting hallways of the hospital where your body lay, dying.  You were lost and confused, and I longed to reach out and touch you, offer you what comfort I could in this place where your soul was so much closer to me.  But I could not—I was being watched closely.

     Though you could not see me, the agent of Death could—she watched me over your shoulder, and I knew she would not bear any interference on my part—she had the power to call the other angels down upon me.  And so I kept my distance, one step behind you, and I watched.

 

 

 

     I knew that your time had not come; there was no possible way that THIS could be the end for you.  You were destined for greater things—I knew this.  Still, rational thought was…difficult…to hold onto, while I watched you drift.  I wanted to save you.

     But it was not I that saved you.

     It was not I that healed you and brought you back to your body, back to waking life.  It was a demon—one of the worst among them, Azazel, the yellow-eyed one who had designs upon your brother and your whole family, agent of Lucifer, defiler of children.  It was HE that saved you, and it was John Winchester who paid the price for your life.  The angels stood by watching, unmoving, as Azazel dragged your father’s soul to the pits of Hell to suffer eternal torment.

 

 

 

     Later, you doctor looked over your chart, stared into your disbelieving eyes, and said “You must have some kind of angel watching over you.”  And you do, Dean Winchester, you do.  You have me, and a legion of other angels who have watched over you from the moment you came into the world.  But it was not I, nor any of the Heavenly Host that saved you.  It was an agent of Hell who brought you back to your body—your life was bought with your father’s eternal soul, while the rest of us stood back and watched.  What kind of angel am I?

     WHAT KIND OF ANGEL AM I?!


	27. Everybody Loves a Clown

 

 

     I stood in the dust of the yard at Singer Salvage and watched, almost _concerned_ as you lovingly, single-mindedly tended to the Impala, setting things to rights to keep yourself distracted and contained.  But I could see inside of you, Dean, and I knew that a tempest brewed just beneath the thin veneer of calm that you put in place for your brother’s benefit, and so that you could pretend, for just a little bit longer, that you were okay.

     But you were not okay, and the pain and guilt did not just go away.  You held it in for as long as you could, lying to yourself and everyone else, until suddenly, you just could not anymore.

     And then I watched as you let it go.  You unleashed all of your rage and grief in the swing of a crowbar.  Over and over and over again.  I watched you beat at the Impala, breaking it down as you broke down.

     And even then, you were not okay.


	28. Bloodlust

 

 

     Gordon Walker rolled into your life like a dark cloud—he was all easy-going camaraderie, hiding a darkness, a bloodlust inside of him.  He was drawn to you and the rage and determination he could sense inside of you.  You saw a version of yourself, of what you could be, reflected in him. 

     The two of you could have become best friends—I saw a future where it happened, Dean.  You came close.  But I am…glad it did not turn out that way.

     I never realized how much your opinions meant to me, how I used them as a way to understand humanity, but they did mean something.  I felt them. 

Your eyes were hard, full of vengeful anger when you looked upon your brother and said of the vampires, “They’re not human, Sam.  We have to exterminate every last one of them.”  If I’d had a heart, it might have broken at those words.

     _I am not human._

But then you began to question the way you saw the world in black and white, Dean. And I did too.

     It was dangerous.


	29. Children Shouldn't Play With Dead Things

 

 

     The entire hunt was a distraction.

     You would not look at your mother’s empty grave, nor would you bow your head and say words of mourning for your father.  You found a case instead and focused all of your energy on that, so that you would not have to think of yourself or your own life. It worked, for a while. 

     But eventually, reality came back to you, and your burden grew too heavy for you to bear on your own. 

     Your voice was choked with feeling when you told your brother that your father never should have made the deal with Azazel.  That you should not be alive.  You do not believe that you deserved to be saved.

     Dean Winchester… your grief is killing you.


	30. Simon Said

 

 

     I have watched you for a very long time, Dean, and I have come to know you in ways that many would never know.  I know that you are loud and brash, and brave, and that even though you followed your father’s orders for most of your life, you value your autonomy above most things.  I have learned that you are perhaps happiest behind the wheel of your beloved Impala, with the open road before you and your brother beside you, and nothing but freedom and your own whim to guide your way.  I know how important it is to you that you have control over yourself, if you do not have control over anything else in this chaotic world.

     I have learned that one of your greatest fears in life is losing control of yourself, of having your own will taken away from you.  In a world full of monsters trying to manipulate you, self-control is precious.  And yet these men, these brothers, Andy and Ansem, stripped that away from you with a thought.  They took your autonomy, and your car, and they nearly forced you to bring harm to innocents and yourself.

     I was under strict orders not to interfere in the case of these…other abominations of Azazel’s.  And so I watched, but I did not bear it easily when the corrupt one, Ansem, instructed you to take your own life.  It was only at the intervention of Andy Gallagher that you were spared, or rather that I was spared from revealing myself and suffering the punishment.

     Dean, I will bear many things—I will watch as you flounder, and as you suffer, but I will not allow you to die.  I will not allow it.


	31. No Exit

 

 

     It was only during your hunt for the ghost of a serial killer in Philadelphia that I first became aware of Joanna Beth Harvelle.  She is a good person, a warrior, a daughter dedicated to her father and his mission in a way that you and even I can relate to.  I watched her and the way that she interacted with both you and your brother, and I believe that she might even be good for you.  She offered a different kind of friendship than anything else you’d ever had before—she offered the bond of family—not from blood, but from choice.

     She is strong, and her soul shines almost as brightly as yours does, Dean.  She reminds me of you.


	32. The Usual Suspects

 

 

_“My name is Dean Winchester. I’m an Aquarius.  I enjoy sunsets, long walks on the beach, and frisky women.  And I did not kill anyone.  But I know who did.  Or rather, what did.  ‘Course, can’t be for sure because our investigation was interrupted, but our working theory is that we’re looking for some kind of vengeful spirit.”_

 

 

Sometimes I cannot help but marvel at your attitude in the midst of precarious situations—you are cocky, mocking, and fearless.  At least, you are when other people can see you, when you have an audience to put on a show for.  You would never allow these people to see that they frighten you, that you are not always 100% sure of your next step.

Sometimes, though, that façade crumbles, and people get a glimpse of what you keep buried deep inside of yourself—all of your innermost thoughts; your worries, your doubts, your fears.  When the corrupted cop threw you from the back of the police van and pointed a gun in your face, I saw sheer terror flash through your eyes, true vulnerability.  You believed the man was going to kill you.

What you did not see though, what you could not, is that I stood guard in front of you.


	33. Crossroad Blues

 

 

_“What if she knew it cost your soul?  How do you think she’d feel?”_

Your voice very nearly shook with the passion of your conviction.  I leant close, listening, intent on your words.  I felt a swell of pride for you, Dean, when you gave your righteous speech about crossroads deals.  Deals with demons.  You sneered at the idea, and tried to make the others understand the true cost of such arrangements.  Power and fame and wealth are nice, they are convenient, but nothing is worth an eternity in Hell.  Nothing.

Even though I was aware of your intentions, and had overheard your plan to try to save that man, I followed you closely to the crossroads, and I stood there with you, as you followed through.  My very presence there felt like a blasphemy.  And as you placed your photo in the box and buried it in the ground, I was filled with a powerful foreboding that I could not shake.


	34. Croatoan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm actually very pleased with myself this chapter. I'd love to hear your comments!

 

 

    The Croatoan virus is one of Hell’s more insidious weapons; not because of the virus itself, necessarily, but because of the distrust and discord that the infection can sow within communities.  When you spoke the word, it rippled through Heaven and in less than a blink of your human eyes, I found myself on the side of a sedate highway leading into a town called River Grove.  Up until this point, my superiors had been adamant about me not interfering in events on earth.  But this word, “Croatoan,” sparked a flurry in Heaven, and my superiors immediately went to seek Revelation on how to proceed.  It would be best, we all knew, to smite the demonic virus from the face of the earth, before it spread like a plague.  It would be the righteous move to cleanse River Grove.  While I waited for my orders, I went to find you.

     Your own choice came in the form of Duane Tanner.

     Duane Tanner sat tied to a chair in the clinic, tears streaming down his face, lips quivering with fear.  He begged for his life, the life that you held in your hands, because no one else in the room would stop you.  I watched your own eyes harden, and I heard you say the words “I got no choice.”  But the decision wasn’t as simple as that.  You DID have a choice.  And I watched you grapple with it.  I could feel the turmoil of your soul as you struggled to weigh each option—as you tried to make the _right_ choice.  It was an impossible situation, and you were left to decide without any divine guidance. 

     Whatever your decision—you would have to live with it, but the repercussions were further reaching than that.  The fate of many more lives and souls rested in your young, human hands.  As you leveled the loaded gun at Duane Tanner, I could hear the thoughts flickering through your mind, blurry and frantic— _It’s not him.  Shoot him, Dean.  There are so many more lives at stake here.  Even if you’re wrong, what’s one man’s life against that of a whole town?  Do it, Dean.  For the greater good._ Your own lip quivered, and another voice flashed through your mind.  It almost sounded like your brother’s voice.  It whispered: _The greater good?  There’s no such thing, Dean.  This is an innocent man’s life we’re talking about.  You can’t do this, Dean.  You’d never be able to live with yourself.  Because you know how much even a single life is worth.  It’s worth everything._

     When you lowered the gun, Dean, when you chose not to pull the trigger, I learned something very important about you.  I just did not understand how much it would mean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are love!


	35. Hunted

 

 

     I paced back and forth in front of you, filled with a holy, righteous fire—rage that begged to be spent on Gordon Walker, that man whose soul was tainted with an insatiable darkness.  “They’re all gonna be killers Dean, so we gotta take ‘em all out.  That means Sammy too.”  Gordon Walker’s each and every word was thought-out, purely logical.  He was what I believe humans call a sociopath.  With each word that spilled from his throat, I watched you grow more desperate, and then:  “But here’s the thing. It woulda wrecked him, but your dad, if it really came right down to it, he woulda had the stones to do the right thing here.  So you’re telling me you’re not the man he is?”

     Gordon Walker saw you change then, saw _this look_ flash through your eyes, but he didn’t understand it, not really.  It wasn’t just desperation, wasn’t just rage, wasn’t just every protective instinct you feel for your brother.  It was a promise.  Even gagged, I could hear you: _If you hurt Sammy, you son of a bitch, I will pick you apart piece by piece so slow that Hell will feel like a reprieve by the time you get there._


	36. Playthings

 

 

     I have been watching humanity for millennia, but sometimes I think I’ve learned nothing of the intricacies of the human condition.  Each and every one of you is your own mystery, your own collection of impossible contradictions.

     Sam Winchester: I have watched you slowly slide toward the edge of your own sanity.  You are full of self-doubt, and loathing.  You think that you are worthless.  You fear so strongly that you tried to convince your brother into agreeing to kill you should you give in to your dark impulses.  I must admit, from the moment I reappeared at the periphery of your life, I have been waiting for it to happen.  You are truly tainted—the boy with the demon blood.  There is something evil inside of you, and it is slowly rising closer to the surface, gaining a stronger hold on you.  And yet….

     And yet…it did not stop you from risking your own life to save that little girl.


	37. Nightshifter

 

 

    I might not have bothered following you on this particular hunt—a shape shifter generally does not warrant the attention of Heaven--but the abomination was not the only thing that called to me, nor was your own fleeting distress. 

    What drew me to that bank in Milwaukee was the presence of another shining bright soul—that of another righteous man.  A warrior like you, Dean.  I admit, I was curious.

    And I did watch, and I did listen, and I was filled with an…appreciation for the bright purity of Victor Henricksen’s soul.  Despite that, though, I lingered and listened to the words he said to you—tossed out so seemingly casually.  They were meant to hurt you, meant to break you.  And I felt you flinch, I felt your fear of finally being trapped, of losing it all. 

    Angels are not meant to show favor to individual humans, unless otherwise commanded by God.  Perhaps it was a weakness, a failing within myself.  Even still, despite the strength of Henricksen’s soul, I decided that I did not like him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is totally just Cas's super-protective opinion, btw. I fucking love Victor, and I will never forgive SPN for killing him off so soon.


	38. Houses of the Holy

 

 

     It was interesting to hover one step behind you and listen as you and your brother debated my existence.  “Mom used to say that angels were watching over us, but she was wrong.”  You threw the words out as proof of the non-existence of divinity.  After watching you for so long, Dean, I knew that you lacked faith.  You did not believe in God, or angels, or destiny.  Your lack of faith might have hurt, except I knew that you said the words out of pain and grief.  The fate of your mother was the only proof you ever needed that God either did not exist or did not care about you.  And yet, here I stood, still watching over you.

     Sam Winchester, the boy abomination, prayed every single day, though no angel was willing to listen to him, because he was…unclean.  Even still, his faith never wavered, not until this very day, when he learned that it was indeed not an angel assigning missions, but rather the spirit of a priest.  But Sam was not the only one to suffer a crisis of faith.

     What you saw that night made you doubt as well, Dean.


	39. Born Under A Bad Sign

 

 

     You and your brother think that you understand what evil is.  You believed that you had enough experience with darkness that nothing could surprise you anymore.  You grew jaded, complacent.  Dean, you have faced terrible things in your life, but even so, none of those horrors compared to having to confront a demon wearing your brother’s face.  The Heavenly Host jeered at your brother’s misfortune, saying that they always knew this was the path Sam Winchester would take.

     Even knowing what you know, you never considered what the reality of facing Hell’s forces entailed.  You forgot how easy it was for a devil to get inside of you.  And so it did.

     The demon who called herself Meg crawled right underneath Sam’s skin, took over his body, and settled there.  She used him to commit atrocities, knowing full well that the guilt of such actions would likely cripple your brother.  She took pleasure in wreaking havoc wearing his face—killing and stealing, and tormenting Joanna Harvelle.  But her greatest pleasure was in flaunting her possession in your face, Dean.  By inhabiting your brother, Meg forced you to realize that you are not infallible.  Even worse, it forced you to realize that maybe you can’t always save your brother.  Though you try anyway.


	40. Tall Tales

 

 

     I could feel your frustration from miles away, but something kept me from getting to you—something stronger than myself.  I tried to find another way through, to identify what sort of being held you captive and kept me at bay.  I petitioned my superiors, but they refused to aid me in reaching you.  They told me that I spent too much of my time watching you as it was, and the time away would do me good.  I should seek Revelation instead.

     It was shameful, but nevertheless, I was forced to wait, discontent, for you to resolve the problem alone.  Even though I have been barred from interfering, I dislike not being able to watch over you.


	41. Roadkill

 

 

     I am so used to seeing you function as a soldier that sometimes I forget how empathetic you can truly be.  I followed you all through the woods, and I watched the tragic tableau replay again and again in front of me.  It is strange what humans choose to hang onto when they are afraid of the unknown.

     It is not in my nature to coddle humans—I am a warrior of God, a soldier, and I prefer to stand back and observe the intricacies of humanity.  But still, as the spirit Molly stirred a sense of sympathy within you, Dean, I felt an echo of something similar in myself. 

     And so, even though it is not my charge, I reached out to Molly, and I told her everything would be okay, and I helped her to cross over.

     I still do not fully understand why I decided to do it.


	42. Heart

 

    Sometimes we must do things that we do not want to do—things that go against our own judgment.  But we do them anyway, because we know that they are right.  Today, for the first time, I feel a connection with Sam Winchester that has nothing to do with Dean Winchester.  I am only sorry that this…kinship…is the result of the pain sometimes incurred through duty.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like Cas would understand a decision like this.


	43. Hollywood Babylon

 

 

     It was strange to see you so enveloped in a life that was not your own.  It caused me to wonder what your life might have been like—who you might have been—if you had not been born Dean Winchester.  Of course you still pursued the hunt like you always have, but you shone with a bright enthusiasm that I had rarely seen before.  And it was not for revenge, or the raw violence of the hunt.  It was for film and art, gadgets and a job that you would actually get paid for.  It was for food and a headset and a schedule, and maybe even making friends.  It was just a glimpse, but I held it close.  And even though I knew you were destined for greatness, I found myself mourning what you would never have.


	44. Folsom Prison Blues

 

 

     Sometimes your brother thinks that you are so many different people, but I know that the only thing you’ve ever been is Dean Winchester.  You are one man with many faces—you grew up learning how to play whatever part you needed to get by, and you have become an expert.  Your brother sees you sitting behind prison bars, and he asks whether you are bothered by how well you seem to fit in.  What he doesn’t understand is that of course it doesn’t bother you—it means that you are doing something right.  You are so smart, Dean, so capable, that you would fit in anywhere.  Maybe it says more about him that he thinks it should bother you.


	45. What Is And What Should Never Be

 

 

     As always, I was forbidden from interfering in your life, and from revealing myself to you.  And so I was forced to stand by and watch as the Djinn attacked you, poisoned you, and strung you up for a slow death.  I couldn’t even follow you, not without you knowing that I was walking in your dreams with you, and you could not know I was there.  It was forbidden.

     But what I could do, and what I did do, was exude just a touch of my grace into that warehouse, just enough that the Djinn could sense that I was there.  It upset the creature, and he refused to draw near so long as I remained.

     I wanted to untie your hands, and lay you down to rest while I pulled the Djinn’s poison from your body.  I longed to pull you from whatever dreams the Djinn had banished you to, and restore you to reality.  But it was not possible.  It would have violated my orders.

     So instead, I did what I could do.  I stood guard in front of your unconscious body and refused to allow the Djinn to feed off of you.  I stayed there, unmovable, until Sam Winchester could reach you.


	46. All Hell Breaks Loose, Part I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am very proud of this chapter. Let me know what you think of it :)

 

 

     Dean Winchester—you are my charge.  My current orders on this earth are to observe you, and nothing more.  Of all the humans on this planet, you are the one to which I am supposed to direct my attention, though even then my superiors believe that I give you _too much_ attention.

     Some amongst the Host would have called my actions disobedient.  Interfering.  They would have said my concern was misplaced.  I was confused.  But at this point, after having watched you for so long, I felt confident in responding to all my accusers: to care for Dean Winchester means to care for Sam Winchester as well.

     “ _He is demon-spawn, Castiel.  Look at him!  You see how he does not fight his destiny?  He embraces it!  Azazel’s blood flows through his veins and he is an ABOMINATION.”_ Uriel’s voice rang through my very being, but I ignored him and followed Sam through the horrors of Cold Oak, a silent shadow at his back. 

     “ _Sam Winchester may well be an abomination, Uriel.  Our superiors tell us that his destiny will take him down a dark road.  I know this.  But still, I feel…compelled…to watch over him.”_

_“He is not your charge.”_

_“No, he is not.  But he is Dean’s charge.  Caring for Dean Winchester…caring for Sam Winchester…the task is one and the same.”_

_“You will face discipline for this, Castiel.”_

_“Maybe.”_

     The whole town of Cold Oak stank of Hell.  The stench of sulfur wrapped around the humans there, and sank into their pores.  Sam Winchester was cloaked in death.  He breathed it in, exhaled it.  I followed him, and watched, attentive, as slowly, one after one, the other of Azazel’s children fell.  But I did not fear for Sam Winchester.  I knew he would prevail.  If he did, it would likely mean he was what my superiors feared, but even so, I counted it a good thing, in the secret part of myself.  It was a blasphemous thought.  It was a terrible thing, to follow Sam Winchester, and to secretly hope that he survived, even as others fell all around him.  But I did not doubt that he would live.  One way or another.  It was only a matter of holding out against the others, against Azazel, until you and your friends could reach him. 

     He was so close, Dean.  Against everything, every machination of Azazel’s creation, formed to try to force your brother into taking the life of an innocent, your brother prevailed.  In sparing Jake Talley, Sam Winchester proved every single angel wrong.  And I rejoiced for him.  But as he grew over-confident, so too did I.  It was a mistake, Dean.  A terrible mistake.

     What I mean to say, Dean, is that I fully intended to watch over Sam…for you.

     I failed.


	47. All Hell Breaks Loose, Part II

 

 

     Your grief cut through the core of me like a fiery blade.  I _felt it_ like it was my own.  Your emotions were so overwhelming I feared they might cripple me.  I was swamped in your self-loathing, cloaked and weighed-down in your melancholy.  I felt like I was moving through a fog that would not be lifted.  Not ever again.  Because Sam Winchester was dead.  It was an impossibility, a reality that you could not accept, and your pain wounded me.

     I should have known.  I had seen all of the signs coming from miles, eons away.  Still, it took me by surprise when you threw Bobby Singer from the room, broke down, and cried over the body of your brother.  I stood close, my wings wrapped around you, to offer what comfort I could, but it wasn’t enough.  Would never be enough.  And so I should have known.

     I followed you to the crossroads.  I watched, horrified, as you put your photograph in a tin and buried it in the ground—it felt like I was trapped in one of your human nightmares.  I could do nothing to stop you; I was doomed to stand by and watch it happen. 

     I opened my mouth to protest, to scream “No, Dean!” but Heaven stole my voice, just long enough to hear you say the words.  And I stood, frozen, and watched you seal the deal.

 

 

 

     After that, a gate to Hell was opened, and then shut.  You smote Azazel.  John Winchester climbed out of Hell and ascended to Heaven.  Sam Winchester rose from the dead.  But it was nothing but shadows to me.  I felt trapped in a soundless, colorless world, frozen in the moment of my greatest failure.  You did what you always do, Dean: you kept fighting.  But I could not move past what I had seen.  My world stopped when you sold your soul.

     Dean Winchester….

     _I will not allow you to go to Hell._


	48. The Magnificent Seven

 

 

_“Castiel, we grow…impatient…with your…continued outbursts.”_ Raphael said, folding her hands primly in front of herself.  _“You were ordered to OBSERVE Dean Winchester, and nothing more.  AND YET: on several occasions you have attempted to interfere with the boy’s destiny.  Additionally, you have neglected him in favor of observing Sam Winchester.  Do you have anything to say in your own defense?”_

_“No.”_

_“One more infraction, Castiel…one more, and you will face disciplinary measures.  Do you understand?”_

_“Yes.”_

_“Good.  Now, go back to your charge, Castiel.  I believe he is currently neck deep in the Deadly Sins.”  Raphael continued to stare for just another moment.  “Remember what I said, Castiel.  This is your last chance.”  Raphael waved a hand.  “Dismissed.”_


	49. The Kids Are Alright

 

 

     Dean, whether or not you are Benjamin Braeden’s biological father is utterly irrelevant.  The most important thing is how much you seemed to want it anyway.


	50. Bad Day At Black Rock

 

 

     Oh, Dean, if I could have bid you “Run,” I would have.  Hell followed at Bela Talbot’s heels: dark, sulfurous, snarling.  She was damned, and there was no saving her. 

     I should have pitied her. 

     I suppose I did, in an abstract sense.  I pity all human souls who are destined for the Pit, and the destruction that awaits them there.  You could have been her—you could have gone that way much sooner so easily.

     I should have pitied her.

     But I was preoccupied with you.


	51. Sin City

 

 

 

     I frowned in consternation when the ceiling caved in, effectively trapping you in the basement with the demon who called herself “Casey.”  My confusion only grew as I watched you settle in to wait for your brother.  You discussed philosophy and theology with the demon; you and she both spoke civilly with one another—almost like old friends.  You asked her about Hell, and she warned you that it wouldn’t be pleasant. Even demons loathe the Pit, but you have many enemies there, so it will be worse, much worse, she warned.  Eventually, the demon conceded that you are “likeable,” but I can assure you, Dean, that you are so much more than that.

     You say that you don’t fear Hell, but I can see inside of your soul, Dean, and even though you try to hide it, I can see the darkness of fear and grief twisting through you.

     I found it…strange that the demon asked her lover to spare your life, and even more curious that you asked Sam to do the same for her.  Despite everything, you felt a connection, a sort of…kinship with her.  Maybe it was because she still knew what it was to be human.  Maybe it was because you have already begun to resign yourself to Hell; you look at Casey and you see yourself reflected back.  I do not understand your reasoning, Dean, but it does not matter.  You are nothing like her.  You do not have the makings of a demon.  You _will not_ go to Hell.


	52. Bedtime Stories

 

 

     I followed Sam to the crossroads, and watched, disapproving, as he buried his own image in the earth and summoned a demon.  Still, I have grown to know him as more than the boy with the demon blood, and so I held my peace and waited.  When the demon arrived, Sam did not try to barter, he did not try to make a deal.  He demanded the demon release Dean from his own deal, and even though Sam could not see me, I nodded my head in approval.  The demon sneered in Sam’s face, and said the deal would not be undone.  I growled at her obvious glee over the idea of Dean suffering endless torture in the Pit.

     Then Sam Winchester leveled the Colt at the demon’s head and pulled the trigger.  I watched dispassionately as blood spattered and the body dropped, demon and vessel both dead.  I twitched my wings and stepped closer to Sam Winchester, both of us vindicated.


	53. Red Sky At Morning

 

 

     I have been watching the goings on of this world for a very long time.  Over the millennia, I have seen families of every kind come and go; I have seen the full range of human emotions from love and friendship to anger and hatred—and though I do not feel them myself, I can recognize them.  I have always found sibling relationships most interesting, because it is one that I can almost relate to.  But even considering the relationships between other sets of siblings, Dean, I know that yours and Sam’s is even more extraordinary than most.  The two of you relate as more than siblings—over the course of your lives, Dean, you have served as Sam’s mother and father, and even his best friend and guardian.  In return, he is your whole world.  You are more than brothers, and I have seen, first hand, that the two of you would do _anything_ for each other.  This case of cursed brothers, wherein one killed the other over something so unimportant as a human law, has no bearing on either of you.  Such a tragedy would never befall you, though you both seem to insist on writing tragedies of your own.


	54. Fresh Blood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for possible tears. I totally cried while I wrote this.

 

 

_“What’s with the auto shop?”_

_“You should know how to fix it.  You’re gonna need to know these things for the future.  Besides, it’s my job right?  Show my little brother the ropes?”_

     I watched the two of you lean close over the open hood of the Impala.  Sam’s brow was scrunched, but he smiled a soft smile as you pointed out various parts of the engine.  But even I, an Angel of the Lord, could see that this was more than merely a lesson in vehicle maintenance. 

     It was about you, Dean Winchester, giving one last gift to your brother.  It was about ensuring that you would continue to take care of Sam, even in this little way, even after you are gone.  It was your way of saying that you trust Sam to care for the Impala in your absence, and that you have faith that Sam will be able to do whatever needs to be done without you.  It was your way of saying “I’m sorry.  I love you.  I don’t want to leave you.”  Without having to say anything at all.


	55. A Very Supernatural Christmas

 

 

     Do not say that this is your last Christmas, Dean.  Do not say that this is your last anything.  It is not. 

     Do not give up, Dean.  Do not ACCEPT that Hell awaits you.  You are not done here, you will not die.  You will have many more years with your brother.

     Sam will not allow you to go to Hell.  Bobby will not allow it.  _I_ will not allow it.  We will all fight for you, Dean Winchester. 

     Please.

     Please, fight for yourself.


	56. Malleus Maleficarum

 

 

_“They were all human once?”_

_“Yes.  The same thing will happen to you.”_

_“There’s no way of saving me from the Pit, is there?”_

_“No.”_

 

     The demon Ruby spoke the truth about demons.  Yes, they were once human souls.  Souls that have since been corrupted, and twisted by the tortures of Hell.  They are dark, broken things.  When I look at most of them, it is hard to glimpse even a streak of their humanity anymore.  But I cannot allow myself to believe that the same will happen to you, Dean.  Your soul shines so brightly.  There is a way to save you, and I know that you will find it.  Your are destined to do great things, Dean.  Hell will not be your end.  Keep fighting.


	57. Dream A Little Dream Of Me

 

 

     When you took the dream root, I walked in your dreams with you as I could not with the Djinn.  It might have confused me, what I saw, but I’ve grown to know you too well after all of these years, and sadly, it did not.  I was not surprised to see that your nightmare was yourself.  I stood between you and your shadow, and I held the words close, so that maybe, later, when I could finally speak to you, I could tell you that they are not true.

_“You’re as mindless and obedient as an attack dog.”_ Not true. “ _All he ever did was train you.  Boss you around.  But Sam he doted on, Sam he loved.”_ John Winchester loved you both, but he was a bad father.  “ _Good little soldier, nothing else.”_  You are so much more than that.  “ _Daddy’s blunt little instrument.”_ No, Dean.  You are a man, a good man.

     “ _I didn’t deserve what he put on me, and I don’t deserve to go to Hell!”_  Yes, Dean.  Good.  Fight it.  You are brilliant and beautiful, Dean.  You deserve good things.  You deserve _so many_ good things.

     “ _You can’t escape me, Dean.  You’re gonna die.  And this—this is what you’re gonna become.”_ No, Dean.  Not ever.

     I reached for you, in the shadows of that dream, but you did not feel me.


	58. Mystery Spot

 

 

_Dean!  DEAN! DEAN!!!_

     I could not reach you, no matter how hard I tried.  Something stronger than myself was blocking me, keeping me from you.  I threw myself against the invisible barrier, but it would not budge.  I bruised myself mindlessly trying to get through.  I could not go over it, could not go around it.  It tore at me.  I felt it in my Grace.  I felt your fear and your pain, and Sam Winchester’s agony was like a knife in my mind. 

     My mind was filled with a terrible keening, and eventually I realized that it was I that made that sound.

     I felt you die, Dean.  Over and over and over again.

     And I could not save you.


	59. Jus In Bello

 

 

     It was the perfect trap—you were bound by both human and supernatural means.  Demons circled the darkened police station—hungry, greedy.  It was an impossible situation.  There was no way out, no way to win.  No right choice.  They wanted to pit you all against each other, destroy you from the inside.  They wanted to breed chaos, break your spirits before they killed you.

     Even so, you and Sam, you found a way.  It was impossible, but you found a way.

     But you did not win. 

     It was a test.  You were never going to win.  It was impossible.

     The demon Lilith brought Hell with her when she walked into that station, and Hell swallowed it whole.

     I can feel it in my very being, Dean.  It is beginning....

     The End.


	60. Ghostfacers

 

 

 

     “Is there nothing we can do?”

     “We have been over this, Castiel.  You have been assigned to observe Dean Winchester.  Nothing more.”

     “It has been almost a year since he made a deal with a crossroads demon, selling his soul.  His time is running out.”

     “So it is.”

     “You cannot mean that you are going to allow him to go to Hell?  You told me he has a great destiny!  You said Dean Winchester is important!”

     “Yes.”

     “We must do something, then.  Please.”

     “Everything is going as it should, Castiel.”

     “But…”

     “Have faith, Castiel.  Now, return to your charge.”


	61. Long Distance Call

 

 

     You thought this time would be different.  You thought that this time, when you really needed him, your father was there to save you.  You’ve been looking for a miracle to save you, and for a while, you thought John Winchester was it.  You always thought he had the answers, but he didn’t.  He was always your hero, no matter how many times he let you down.  You had a sort of faith in him that you’ve never had in anything else, and I do not understand why.  He was undeserving of such faith and devotion.  Still, you gave it to him, and you never asked for anything in return, though you constantly hoped for his love and his approval.

     John Winchester gave his life for you once, Dean, to save yours.  It was all he could do to protect you, and he did it without reservation.  Your father did love you, even if he did not know how to say it.  He's gone now, though, Dean, and he can’t save you.  Not this time.

     John Winchester isn’t here, but _you_ still are, and you can still find a way to save yourself.

     Dean…please, don’t give up on yourself yet.


	62. Time Is On My Side

 

 

 

     Desperation fueled you both.  You were sure that the Colt could save you, if you could only get your hands on it once more.  Sam thought the secret to your salvation was immortality.  He was willing to turn you into a monster if it meant not losing you, because after everything, Sam Winchester does not know how to live without you.  He refuses to.

     I knew that neither plan was good enough.  The Colt might stop Lilith, but you did not have enough bullets to keep the forces of Hell at bay.  Not for long.  They had your scent, Dean, and I knew that they would find you, no matter how fast or how far you ran.  The Colt would only delay the inevitable.

     Even Sam did not really believe that Doctor Benton could save you.  He knew that you would never consent to the means necessary for your own survival.  You would never harm another to keep yourself alive.  He knew that, too.

     The answer to your salvation was simple, really.  If I revealed myself, if I stepped into the fray, your life would be spared.  Even Lilith is no match for one like me.  I could destroy her and her Hell hounds with a spark of my Grace.  I could clear all demons from your path, Dean.  I could save you.  But Raphael had told me that everything was happening as it should.  She told me to have faith.

     And so I did.


	63. No Rest For The Wicked

 

 

 

     Hell Hounds snarled at the door, shaking it on its hinges.  The Hoodoo dust lining the doors and the windows was strong, but it was not strong enough to keep them out forever.

     You might have been safe, at least for a while, but the enemy had followed us inside.  The demon Ruby was gone, and Lilith was in her place.  I bristled at her presence, and longed to smite her from existence.  I put myself between you and her.

     “ _Sick ‘im, boys._ ” Lilith sing-songed as she opened the door.  The words chilled me to the core.  I strode forward, screaming “No!”

     Suddenly the room was too full, too loud.  An army of angels crowded close to me, boxing me in.  One of them hissed, “You forget yourself, brother.”  They latched onto me, binding me and my Grace.

     There was so much blood.  I struggled against my captors, shouting.  As the Hell Hounds tore at you, Dean, I screamed, but I was held back by my brothers.  I fought to get to you, Dean, to save you.  The angels held me tight and forced me to remain still.

     I watched, utterly horrified, as your soul was dragged down into Hell.


	64. Re-education

 

 

     I screamed until they silenced me.  I wailed for you, Dean, until they plucked all emotion from my being.  They tied me down and stripped me of all that I thought I was.  They stripped me down to nothing, to bare bones, and then they built me up again, as something else.

     I had been disobedient, a bad son, a bad angel. I’d failed you and myself both.  I prayed for forgiveness.  I prayed for another chance.  I wanted to be good.  I’d never meant to rebel against orders.  I’d never meant to interfere.

     “I promise I’ll do better.” Was how I ended every prayer.

     They re-educated me in the brightest corner of Heaven.  They drilled the mission into my mind.  They gave me new orders.  They re-created Castiel.

     I am a good soldier.  An Angel of the Lord.  I serve God, and Heaven.

     Much time passed in Heaven, but not on earth.  On earth, Dean, your loved ones were still mourning you.


	65. Lazarus Rising

 

 

    Much time had passed, and I’d since been released and returned to regular duty.  It felt like forever since I had been stationed on earth as the guardian of Dean Winchester.  My superiors were certain that I was perfect and obedient again; a model soldier.  I knew that it was true.  I could remember everything about you, Dean, but my mind was…clear…of all doubts once again.

     And so I cannot explain what I did next.

     When the news came that a battalion of angels was being sent to lay siege to Hell to retrieve Dean Winchester, I strode purposefully into my superior’s office, wings flaring, and declared “I volunteer.”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are love! Seriously, hearing from you all makes my day! Also, feel free to stalk me at my tumblr: http://realhunterswearplaid.tumblr.com/


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